The Girl, The Car and the Jail Cell
by Skysalla
Summary: The Chronicles of Shawn Spencer: Part 1. A Look back into Shawn's past, to the day he got arrested.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: I do not own Psych._

_Warnings:Language_

_------------------------------_

The Girl, the Car and the Jail Cell

Part 1

"_You're currently unemployed, you've never held a job for more than six months and you have a criminal record."_

_"I was eighteen."_

"_Oh, eighteen, well that makes it ok, let me just scratch this out."_

"_I borrowed a car."_

"_You stole a car."_

"_To impress a girl."_

"_Was she?"_

"_Till I slapped the cuffs on her, then all the sudden she's not the wild child she claimed to be."_

"_Forgive us Mr. Spencer, but this seems far fetched."_

"_Would it help at all, if I told you she had a bit of a reputation and I was '0' for High school? …Okay fine, there were extenuating circumstances, the arresting officer was my father he was trying to teach me a lesson."_

"_Did you learn it?"_

"_I learned that I hated my father; so sure."_

-Pilot

March 1995

The day had started out just like any other Saturday. He had woken up early and headed out to enjoy the morning waves. Although he had not anticipated running into Tegan at the beach; apparently she surfed too. He had been excited to find that out. The two had said hello and continued to surf, each keeping their distance yet always watching the other.

They maintained this until the crowds started to show up. Surfing was no fun when there were a hundred toddlers peeing in the water and throwing beach balls at you endeavoring to knock you off your board.

They had found themselves climbing out of the water at roughly the same time and he had nearly tripped over a five year old and, in his attempt to regain his balance he fell on Tegan. Of course, that may not have been a _complete_ accident. He was able to talk her into smoothies on the boardwalk as they dried off, and he convinced her to go on a more formal date with him that evening.

Of course, she had to have an extreme distaste for motorcycles, so he had spent most of the day attempting to commandeer another form of transportation. When it came right down to it, the only vehicle available had been his father's truck. Not very impressive; the cool factor was definitely lacking. But she had been much happier not to see his bike nonetheless.

They had gone to the movies and afterwards driven down to the park for a little privacy. It had been her idea to go there, but he couldn't say he was opposed to the idea.

Things had started off rather nicely, pretty romantically actually, but just after he had stripped from his shirt, someone's hand had gripped his bare shoulder and pulled him away from Tegan. He had flailed wildly, desperate for something to grab hold of to prevent himself from being torn apart from one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever had a chance with.

But the hands had been quick, yanking him from the vehicle and quickly twisting first one arm, then the other behind his back and into a pair of handcuffs. He had been twisted around and found himself staring into a pair of angry eyes; _familiar_ angry eyes.

--

That had been almost four hours ago. Now however, he found himself sitting in a jail cell with Bobby the toothless wonder and a skinny man who had a part time job as an acrobat. He had been in earlier that day when Bobby had been arrested. The man was suspected of murder. He was sitting-no, he was _trapped_ in the same room with a murderer. What if this guy killed him? No, worse…what if this guy had other things in mind? He was eighteen, but he wasn't naïve, he knew what happened to smaller guys in prison.

He glanced to the clock: Three more hours until the station would come back to life, before he would be dragged back to the interrogation room for more "questions". He snorted, that was rich, questions. Leaning his head back against the cold brick wall, he cast one more wary look towards Bobby and their acrobat friend. Comforted by the steady rise and fall of the other's chests, he allowed himself to dose.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"Spencer."

The sharp tone jerked him awake so violently he almost tumbled from the thin bench. His eyes didn't want to focus on anything as he adjusted to the harsh light of the cell.

"Spencer, up."

He knew that tone, that was the "You're a criminal and will do as you're told" tone, that was the tone he had heard many times during his visits to the station.

"Now Spencer."

The voice was getting agitated with his lack of response. So he stood, and stepping to the front of the cell, put his hands out in front of him. They were cuffed together through the bars before the door was opened. Calloused hands pulled him out by the elbow; calloused hands that belonged to his father.

His father dragged him to interrogation room B. He knew not because he read the sign on the door, but because he'd often played hide and seek in the station with Officer Palcox and this room had been his favorite hiding spot.

He was manhandled into the uninviting room and pushed into the cold chair. His father stepped back and leaned against the one way window, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes narrowed.

"Alright Spencer, talk."

Hazel eyes snapped up to his father, matching the glare that was geared his way. He set his jaw firmly and let the stare down begin.

The two stared at each other in silence for five minutes before he finally spoke up.

"I know my rights, I know 'em better than most."

"You wanna go away Spencer? We've caught you red handed. Grand theft auto, underage drinking and attempted rape."

Shawn blinked, losing his resolve to be as hard assed as his father, he felt his mouth drop open. "Attempted what?"

"You heard me. Rape."

"I…She…But..."

"You were half naked when we found you, lying on top of Miss Ivanz who was handcuffed to the car door. It won't be hard to pin this on you."

Shawn snapped, next thing he knew he was on his feet. "What the fuck Dad?"

"Spencer I suggest you keep your cool." While his father had seemed a little surprised at the outburst, he maintained his air of confidence. "Sit down."

"No!" Shawn kicked the chair against the wall, meeting the firm gaze of his father. "That was her idea, not mine. No way can you accuse me of that."

"Let's start at the top, shall we?" His father stood up straight, strolling to stand in front of Shawn. Only the table separated them. "When did you steal the truck?"

He gave his father a quick once over before slowly matching the man's position, arms down on the table for support, jaw remaining firmly set. "I didn't steal the truck." His father made no movement except for the slightest raising of the eyebrow. Obviously he wanted him to continue. "The keys were on the coffee table. I borrowed the truck."

"You borrowed without the owner's express permission."

"Oh for crying out loud Dad, I was gonna bring it back after my date!"

"After you raped Miss Ivanz?"

"She wanted to go out there! I was just gonna drop her off after the movie, but she turns to me and she says…" He changed his voice to the best imitation of Tegan Ivanz he could muster, "Oh no Shawn, tonight is just such a wonderful evening, why don't you take me over to the park? I see you have…handcuffs."

He dropped the falsetto voice. "She practically took her shirt off right there! What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to do the right thing Shawn!"

He stepped back at the outburst. Finally, his Dad had dropped the cop act. He was no longer just another suspect. He was again Shawn Spencer, son, screw up, disappointment extraordinaire.

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest "'Cause you're _all_ knowing when it comes to women, right Dad?"

He knew he shouldn't have said it, but what kind of role model had his father been lately? His parents had been separated for almost six months now and it didn't look promising for the two of them to be getting back together anytime soon.

The comment angered his father, and Shawn barely saw the hand whip out as it poised to strike him. But his father froze before the hand graced his check. Attacking a suspect during interrogation resulted in automatic suspension for as little as two weeks, Shawn knew that, and he knew his Dad knew it too. His hand hung in the air before it was slowly brought back to the table.

"Where'd you get the beer?"

"It was Tegan's."

"And the handcuffs?"

"You keep spares under the seat."

His father stepped back from the table as the door swung open. Both Shawn and his father turned to look at intruder.

"Chief Harton?"

"Henry, may I speak with you outside?"

His Dad nodded and moved for the door, but not before throwing one more glare Shawn's way that seemed to say "I'm not done with you yet."


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

The door closed and Shawn was left alone with his thoughts and the muffled shouting that leaked through the closed door. He rubbed his head; his dull headache had morphed into more of a throbbing sensation. He wasn't drunk…but he also wasn't exactly sober.

With a sigh he pulled the chair back to the table and collapsed into it. He knew he wasn't going to win against his father, but nobody said he had to back down either.

When the door finally opened again his father was nowhere in sight. Instead Chief Harton came in and closed the door quietly. Shawn knew Chief Harton; he had been named Chief just last year.

"Shawn."

"Dan." The man looked a bit surprised at the use of his first name. Shawn guessed not too many people around the station called him by it.

"As you know Shawn, I have a daughter your age."

"Sure, Amy is in my English class."

"Yes, she says you get straight A's?"

He shrugged. No matter how hard he tried _not_ to try, he couldn't help put pass every test with flying colors.

"You and Amy graduate in a little over a month. She wants to be a Veterinarian. What are you planning to do Shawn?"

He hadn't been expecting that. He shifted in his chair and hoped maybe Dan would ask another question and let that one go.

"What do you want to do with your life Shawn?"

"I…I d-dun …" The gaze directed his way was not one of anger, but a gaze of fatherly concern, something he wasn't used to. It made him squeamish. "I d-don't know…" Dan raised an eyebrow. "I don't know Sir."

Dan sat down in the chair, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands.

"Well how bout this…I have a plan for what you are _not_ going to do. You wanna hear it?"

He wasn't sure if this was a trick question or not. Did he have a choice? Did it involve his father or some labor camp…or both? Numbly he found himself nodding.

"This little incident here is going to go on your record. Your father won't be pressing charges, but as of today, you have a criminal record. You've become a thief. Do you want to be a thief Shawn?"

What kind of stupid question was that? He knew what happened to thieves; they went to jail. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"No Sir."

"Alright, this is what you aren't going to do. Under no circumstances are you to add to your criminal record. You know better than most kids what happens to criminals, don't you Shawn?"

"Yes Sir." Man, he wished that Dan would yell at him or something. He could handle yelling; he was still in Father Fight mode. The quiet, concerned tones were very disconcerting and for some reason, it was taking way too long to switch gears.

"As for today, we're going to let you call your Mom now, okay? She is going to have to come down and post bail for you. This is a serious crime. We aren't going to just shake it off because you're young. You're an adult now. You need to learn from this."

Shawn nodded as Dan stood and moved towards the door. Another officer appeared to escort Shawn to the phone. He didn't see any further sign of his father the whole way there.

Lifting the receiver out of its cradle, he quietly dialed. The phone only rang twice.

"Can you page Dr. Spencer Please?"

Once again he was seated in the holding cell. Bobby the toothless wonder was still there, but he was the only one. Shawn settled back onto his bench, attempting to avoid the stare of his cell mate.

"You gonna go to prison kid?"

He wasn't about to talk to this guy. He was a murderer.

"You know what they do to pretty boys like you in prison?"

Bobby had made his way across the cell without Shawn realizing and was now uncomfortably close to him. "I've been to prison before. You'll make a great Prison Bitch." Bobby reached out and stroked his hair. "How bout I give you some training before they send you out there?"

"GET OFF!" With all the strength he could muster Shawn shoved the man off the bench and jumped the other direction, his back slamming against the bars of the cell. Bobby was up quickly and closed the distance between them before Shawn could move.

"Now you're gonna pay you little punk!" Bobby covered Shawn's mouth with one hand and pushed his head hard against the bars. The impact dazed him but he was numbly aware of pressure near his waist.

He was in the middle of a police station! How could somebody _not_ see what was going on here? He tried to scream through Bobby's hand as he heard the other man's pants unzip.

He was quickly turned around, his forehead roughly impacting the bars of the cell. The hand over his mouth remained as another grabbed the hem of his pants.

No way, no way! Where was Chief Harton? Where was Captain Conners? Albert? Larry or Dave? Heck, he would even take his father right now if it stopped _this._

He closed his eyes in terror, this couldn't be happening.

Suddenly the weight pressing against his back was gone. Cracking his eyes open he turned to see Bobby convulsing at his feet, two taser darts protruding from his shoulder. The cell door was whipped open and Dan reached in and pulled Shawn out by his arm before quickly closing the door again.

"You alright?"

He nodded numbly as he was led back to the interrogation room. "Wait for your mom in here Shawn."

Once again, Shawn found himself alone with nothing but his reflection in a one way window to stare at.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

It was several hours later when Shawn was awoken by a gentle shaking of his shoulders. He rubbed at the drool on his face as he looked into the concerned eyes of his mother.

"Shawnie? You okay?"

He nodded and reached to rub the crick in his neck when she blitzed him, enveloping him in a hug that would have taken the air out of a small bear. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her. He could feel her tears wetting the top of his head as they hugged in silence.

A soft rap on the door interrupted them. His mother pulled away, wiping the tears from her eyes with the hem of her scrubs.

"We're coming Dan."

She stood with him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, holding him tighter and closer than she normally would. Apparently she had been informed of the attack in the holding cell.

Dan escorted them all the way out to the parking lot, waiting on the steps of the station until the two had entered the car.

There had still been no sign of his dad. Someone was running interference for him and his mom. He knew it had been a good idea to make friends at the station.

Silently his mother had started the car and headed home. But she had headed west, towards his Dad's house. She was currently living on the east side of town, staying with one of her friends from the hospital for the past six months.

He glanced over at her as she brushed a strand of her short black hair off her forehead, the movement drew his attention to the corner of her lip; she was chewing it. She always chewed the corner of her lip after arguing with his father.

"What's the plan?"

"We're going to pick up some of your things."

He was moving out again. He had moved out with her when he was ten and again when he was thirteen. The last time had been when he was fifteen.

She had come to pick him up from the station where he had been waiting for a ride to get his permit test taken, but his parents had chosen to spend the better part of an hour arguing in the parking lot that day, causing him to miss the test.

Dan had given him the detective's exam as a way of distracting him. He had aced it and Dan had made him take it again, thinking he cheated somehow. It had taken the rest of his parent's fight to swear the man to secrecy. If his dad ever found out about that, he was doomed to be a cop.

The rest of their car ride passed in silence, his mother kept her eyes firmly on the road while Shawn watched the sun disappear over the horizon. He'd spent almost twenty four hours in jail.

It was not long until he found himself in his bedroom with the instructions to pack his things. He knew the drill; he had already gone through the same situation three times. He would pack his possessions, and head to his mom's for a few days.

Eventually his father would cool down and come and get him.

He always used excuses about distance to school in order to convince his mom. Of course mom always went back too in order to keep an eye on him.

It was only a matter of time until the cycle started all over again.

He stripped off his soiled shirt before throwing it in a pile. It could stay; he didn't want to take that shirt with him because of the memories of the past 24 hours it would bring.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Shawnie?"

"Give me ten minutes mom."

He heard her shuffle away and then there was another noise.

The front door opening.

--

The sound of his father's name being shouted through the house could have been heard three states over.

He reached over and snapped on his stereo, but not before he heard the squall commence.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU ARRESTED OUR SON?"

He cringed.

But thankfully she went downstairs to continue their argument, thus minimizing any catch phrases he might overhear through the carefully selected rock music.

He began angrily shoveling clothes into his duffel bag, as well as a few CDs and his hair gel.

His hand hovered over a framed family portrait that sat on his desk.

It was a family portrait from Christmas 1985.

It was the same portrait that went in and out of the bag each time he moved, each time his parents fought.

He held the photo in his hands looking at the smiling face of his eight year old self. He heard a clamor from the kitchen.

God he hoped his parents were not throwing things again.

He looked back at the picture, at the smiles plastering their faces. His eight year old self had not known what was in store.

"What are you so happy about?" he scowled at child with the idiotic grin. "Your family is fucking screwed up!"

His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened in anger. His parent's voices managed to overcome the rock music.

Things were not going well.

The family in the picture was so happy. There had been no fighting the night they had taken that.

That night had been one filled with family laughter.

Things had deteriorated after that. His mother's job often kept her long hours from dusk till well past dawn. Half the time he was home she had been sleeping.

His dad had picked up a pretty difficult case right around then, causing him to stay long hours at the station whenever his mother hadn't been working.

His parents had both gotten extremely stressed in that one year, and things had just gone downhill from there. They had begun taking it out on each other.

He looked again to the picture in his hands. This was not his family. They were not that happy. But he wanted it to be, his heart was longing for the days when his parents could joke together. He longed for the days when his dad used to dance with his mom while she was trying to cook dinner. Heck, he would even like to go back to when his parents could stand in the same room together without yelling or throwing things.

With a scream of rage he hurled the photo at the wall watching as it smashed to the floor.

Trembling, he fell to his knees.

Burying his face in his hands, the child in him cried.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

He did not know how long he cried, but his parents were still arguing when he finally managed to compose himself. He could still hear their shouts despite the music. He rubbed his face and finished tossing things in his bag before throwing the bag to the floor by the door. He paced the room, violently kicking things out of his way. This was _not_ happening again, he wasn't going to go through this stupid cycle one more time.

He was going to put an end to their manipulation of him.

Picking his bag up off the ground and his motorcycle helmet off the desk, he cracked the door open; their fight raged on.

He snuck down stairs, being careful to avoid the two steps that creaked. But in all honesty, if he had been wearing pots and pans around his neck and screaming, he wouldn't have been noticed.

He hovered at the base of the steps, listening to find out what part of the argument they were at.

"…MAYBE IF HIS MOTHER WAS EVER AROUND-"

"MAYBE IF HIS FATHER HAD BEEN TEACHING HIM SOMETHING OTHER THAN HOW TO BE A COP WE WOULDN'T HAVE THIS PROBLEM!"

They were in the blame portion of their arguing; he easily had another two hours.

Deciding he did not want to hear anymore, he slipped out the front door and threw his bag into the back seat of his mother's car.

He was not going to take off on her. He had not even seen her for the last six months. Slipping onto his motorcycle, he revved the engine and made his way to Gus' house.

But he couldn't shake off the last thing he had heard before closing the door.

Divorce.

--

Gus was still awake. No surprise there, they had a chemistry test the next day. He maneuvered his way around the foliage and ratted on Gus' window. It only took a moment for his best friend to pull the blinds open.

"Shawn? I've been looking for you all day!"

"Sorry man."

"Your parents were fighting again?"

He knew that Gus would figure it out. They had been friends too long for him to hide that sort of thing.

"You're going to your Mom's place then?"

"Only for tomorrow."

Gus seemed to take a moment to catch up to what had been said.

"What?"

"I'm not gonna let them do this again Gus. I'm going to Mom's since I haven't seen her in so long and then…" He wasn't sure how to say it. He didn't want Gus to get mad at him too.

"What Shawn?"

"I've come to say goodbye."

"Y-You're leaving?"

"Yeah."

"Y-You can't do that! We have a test tomorrow, what about graduating? What about college?"

"Forget it, I don't need that stuff."

"Shawn!"

"Dude, I remember everything I read, I don't need to waste the next four years of my life at an uncomfortable desk pretending to study."

Gus was taking this better than he thought he would. The two had planned to go to college together, and now he was screwing up all their plans. No, he wasn't, his parents were.

"Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know."

They stood in silence for a while, Shawn shifting nervously as he watched his friend process this information.

"Promise you'll write?"

Had the screen not been in between them he could have hugged Gus. As it was, they opted for a fist bop through the mesh.

"Yeah dude, I'll write."

--

End

--


End file.
